


Three's company

by lheadley



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Polyamory, Porn is the main plot point, Though that is not the main plot point, Threesome - M/M/M, chubby!Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-29
Updated: 2013-10-20
Packaged: 2017-12-27 23:20:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/984838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lheadley/pseuds/lheadley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles comes home exhausted to his family - but soon discovers how pleased they  are to have him back</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Home

Stiles let himself into the front door as quietly as he could. It was past midnight, and the house was silent – not the ominous silence of years past, but the quiet silence of peaceful sleep. Giving a little exhalation of exhaustion, Stiles put his document folder on the centre table in the hallway, and his car keys into the ceramic bowl placed strategically for that purpose. His suit jacket he tossed over the back of the nearby sofa. He glanced at the sofa with a sort of lingering longing – tiredness had taken hold about an hour out of Sacramento, and even the two coffee stops en route had not been enough to hold it at bay for the last half an hour. The thought of clambering the stairs and undressing to get to bed was just oppressive –but the incentive was powerful as well. With a sigh Stiles reached down and took off his shoes, so as not to make any noise on the stairs.

The idea of making no noise was, of course, doomed from the start – or more specifically doomed from the third step up. That was the step which creaked with a sound like a door slamming. Stiles swore under his breath, and then crept up to the main bedroom floor, pausing briefly to check the house was still silent. Reassured he continued on up to the top floor. He pushed the bedroom door open a crack, then half opened it.

The twins were asleep – the same bed again. Stiles had argued that buying two beds would be a complete waste of money. Tyler’s hand was resting lightly on Dylan’s back, and they lay facing each other, breathing over each other’s faces. Stiles leant his head against the doorframe, and gazed down at them in the faint half light of the hall light. He felt the ache he always felt seeing them like this – peaceful, angelic in sleep, and nothing like the three-year-old terrors they were when they were awake, wreaking havoc and mayhem wherever they went. Quietly he stepped out of the room and shut the door, before opening the door next to it. Four-year-old Crystal was asleep in here, her dark hair tumbled around her face. Even in sleep she still managed to look serious, though she was capable of a wicked and sarcastic sense of humour when she put her mind to it. Stiles smiled at her, and stood staring for a few minutes, before pulling her door to and retracing his steps down a flight of stairs.

Reaching the master bedroom, Stiles peered in. The door was half open, but the room was silent. A lamp was lit by the bed, left on for him presumably. Stile crept in, his besocked feet not making that much noise. The near side of the bed was a chaotic mound of throw pillows and rumpled bedding. It looked like a little incongruous, like one of the children had tried to build a pillow fort. On the further side, away from the door and near the window, he could make out a linen sheet pulled taut over Derek’s body, somehow emphasising its muscled form. That was a far more adult image. Indeed, if paying the mortgage ever got to be a problem, it was an image Stiles was prepared to sell on Xtube.

With tiredness making his eyes ache, Stiles shuffled and slid over the wooden floor to a chair by one of the wardrobes. He took off his regulation gun and holster, checking it was unloaded, and placed it on the chair before slowly untying his tie and unbuttoning his shirt. Turning to put the shirt on the chairback, he caught sight of himself in the mirror. He almost groaned – remembering the need not to wake anyone and checking himself just in time. It was more a resigned huff out of air than a groan. Stiles turned to face the mirror full on. He looked a wreck. Bags under his eyes, a skin that in the light of the bedside lamp was looking sallow more than pale. Glancing down Stiles noticed the love handles forming at his sides, and a soft belly edging out over his waistband where previously there had been toned muscle. Too much time behind a desk, eating donuts, living the stereotype. He was too young to be facing middle aged spread. He was only thirty two for goodness sake.

“Stiles?”

Crap. Stiles cursed himself mentally. He must have been voicing his thoughts out loud. He rarely did that anymore, it was a sign of how the day had beaten him down.

“Hey, Der, it’s me. Go back to sleep. Everything’s fine. I checked in on the kids, they’re asleep.”

Derek was half sitting up on his side of the bed. “I know” he said with a smile.

“Of course you know.” Stiles was snapping irritably, irrationally but still in a subdued tone. “But I wanted to check for myself. Only member of this family not to have werewolf hearing, or werewolf metabolism, or werewolf abs or…” he gestured to himself in an irritable manner.

“Hey, hey, hey” Derek’s voice was hushed, but full of concern. He pushed the sheet off him, and pulled himself out of bed. Naked, of course. Perfect body, obviously. He strode quickly over to Stiles and stood behind him, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him back against his chest. “What’s this all about, huh? Didn’t the trial go well?”

“It dragged on. We got a judge who is not clued into werewolves, and you know how much harder the Bureau has to work to make a case stick when it is like that. Every detail has to be humanised or blamed on wildlife or… but he’ll be found guilty. Jury comes back tomorrow, or rather today now – but I don’t need to be there. I made the necessary arrangements with the prison system. Mountain ash in the cell bars and all that. Ignore me. I am just tired, and being grumpy.”

“I could never ignore you” Derek whispered into Stiles’s neck, where he planted a gentle kiss. 

“Oh, God that has to win the prize for cheesiest line of the week, you know that?”. Stiles snuggled back into the embrace. “Come on, let’s get some sleep.”

Derek’s hands strayed down to the belt holding up Stiles’ dark suit trousers. “We could sleep, of course.” He undid the belt, and reached to unfasten the trousers. “Or we could help you unwind.”

Stiles’ trousers fell to the floor, with a soft clunking sound as the belt buckle, muffled by the wool fabric, struck against the wood. Stiles pulled himself free, stepped out of the trousers, and bent to take off his socks. Derek gave a soft moan behind him.

“Your ass in those boxers. You are being a tease”. 

“My beer gut hanging over the edge of the boxers you mean” Stiles turned away from the treacherous mirror. “Could I be any less sexy? Oh, yeah, right. I could if I stood next to an Adonis like you whose muscles have muscles. Go on, get into bed.”

Derek pulled Stiles with him as he gently lay down on the mattress. Derek was already half hard. His hands were sliding over Stiles slowly, as if to reassure himself that Stiles was real and lying next to him. He gently pushed under the fabric of Stiles’ boxer shorts, trying to ease them over his hips.

“Derek, no… you’ll wake…” Derek leaned in to kiss Stiles, cutting off any further noise. Stiles gestured randomly in the direction of the door to signal what he meant.

“We could be quiet” Derek was whispering in between kisses. “You could gag me, maybe? So that my moans of ecstasy couldn’t be heard when you enter me. I would try and beg, but you would ignore me, go at your own pace.”

Stiles huffed against Derek’s neck.

“When your glorious cock pushes into my ass, gently teasing me open, making me feel so good as you enter just a little bit. And I would keep entirely silent, not telling you how much I love you, how much I want you to fill me up. I wouldn’t even moan as you bit down on my neck, while you rocked deeper and deeper into me.”

Derek had worked the boxers off Stiles’ ass now, and his erection had sprung free. Derek was pushing his own hard length into Stiles’ groin, letting them both feel the pulsating warmth of the other. Derek pulled his hands up to Stiles’ head, framing his face as he pulled him towards a kiss. 

“Der, don’t we’ll wake…”

Derek’s tongue was in Stiles’ mouth now, darting in with sharp little thrusts, mimicking the action Derek loved to make with his cock, when he got to top with Stiles. Stiles smiled a little to himself, and gave his body over to a moment of relaxed pleasure. Derek was still rubbing himself against him, and Stiles’ restless energy had managed to worm the boxers off him – or sort of. They seemed to have stuck around one of his ankles.

Suddenly Stiles felt a hand slapping on his back and the soft mounds of his ass cheeks. It was not the sharp, lustful slapping associated with sexytimes, it was a flailing kind of a motion - like someone was trying to find the snooze button on an alarm clock. Stiles half turned to see a tan arm waving in a groggy fashion from the centre of the vortex of pillows and cushions on the other side of the bed.

“Dudes, screw each other already. I have to get up for work in the morning.”


	2. Role play

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Derek” Scott’s voice took on the special tone it always did when confronted by anything in pain – animal, human, or werewolf. “You know we all need each other just as much. You are just better at expressing emotions than Stiles, or me.”

“Scott, dude, I’m sorry. I tried to stop him. I didn’t want to wake you.” Stiles pushed at some of the pillow fort. A wall and some battlements came tumbling down and the naked form of Scott was suddenly revealed, eyes resolutely closed and arm still flapping around ineffectively. Stiles leant in to kiss him. “You asleep?”

“Yes…”It was a moan.

“But you seem to be getting up.” Stiles reached a hand out to grasp at the thickening length of Scott’s cock. “Are you pleased I’m home too?”.

Derek scooted over towards the middle of the bed, and kicked to take out a throw pillow tower and a couple of the remaining walls from the fort. Scott was lying on his side on top of the duvet, half curled around Stiles’ hand as Stiles gently stroked Scott’s rapidly hardening length.

“Dude, I’m always glad you are home.”

“Well, if you’re up, you could come and play with us.”

Scott opened half an eye. “Stiles, I would love to. You know I would. But Derek pounded my ass twice already the evening. I don’t think I am up for a repeat performance, especially from your dick.”

“Derek? What were you doing to poor Scotty?”. Derek was looking a little abashed. “Bad wolf. What got into you?”

Scott was placating. “You know how he is when you are away. He gets fretful, and needs to be calmed down.”

“And you never get like that, do you Scotty boy?”

“I know I will always have you. It is one of the very few certainties I have in my life.” Scott pushed himself up onto one elbow, still a little groggy. “Derek, on the other hand, is needy. You know that.”

Derek huffed indignantly, but Stiles smirked at him.

“Der, do you need me to remind you about the conference on wild animal treatments that Scott went off to? You spent three days pacing up and down by the front door, whining at every car that went past, until you drove me mad enough to pack the kids into the SUV and travel four hours to ‘surprise’ Scott.”

“Who was moping until we showed up.” Derek was defensive.

“There were not grooves in the floor of his room from all the pacing.”

Stiles had slowed his stroking of Scott, and was now just loosely grasping at his dick. Scott was fully erect, and although his hair was still ridiculously tousled from the pillow fort, he seemed awake.

“So, Scott, you going to join Derek and me in some fun?” 

Derek reached across Stiles – his hard dick pressing into Stiles’ ass cheek with a firm insistence, as he bent in to give Scott a sloppy kiss. “You can top…”

Scott pulled back from Derek a little to look at them both. “You guys go ahead. I can just watch.”

Stiles leant in to compete with Derek in mouthing open, wet kisses on Scott’s lips. “I want all of us. Please Scott. I want to feel you as well… unless…” Stiles introduced a poor attempt at pathos “unless you don’t fancy me now I have gotten old and fat and…”

Derek moved from kissing Scott abruptly to close his mouth over Stiles’, and Scott slapped Stiles’ ass in mock chastisement. The slapping sound was loud in the stillness of the house.

“You are not fat, Stiles. You are in fantastic shape.” Derek was strident, punctuating his comments with hard mouthed kisses.

“What do you think Scott?” Stiles could feel Scott squirm a little against him.

“I love you just the way you are.”

“Not what I asked, Scotty boy.”

More squirming from Scott.

“Scott…”

“Well, maybe you have put on a few pounds.” Scott’s hand was massaging Stiles’ ass with a certain insistence, fingers digging into the pliant flesh. “But I would love you however you looked.” Scott’s other hand reached to slide lightly over Stiles’ stomach, lingering along the ridge of fat above his groin and jiggling just a little before easing down to brush gently against the slightly leaking tip of Stiles’ cock. 

Stiles leaned away from Derek and Scott to be able to gaze on both of them at once. “That’s why I love you both. You tell me what I want to hear”. He ran his fingers down Derek’s washboard abs, and brushed his cock with just the right amount of intent to cause a quiver of expectant need from him. “And you tell me what I need to hear”. Stiles ran his other hand over Scott’s tan chest, before tweaking a nipple in a way that brought out a stifled moan.

“We can go running before work tomorrow” Scott said after a moment. “If you wear Lycra shorts, and I run behind.” 

Stiles smiled to himself. Scott had always been an ass kind of a guy, and his insistent kneading of Stiles’ ass cheeks showed that nothing had changed.

“Sure.” Stiles suddenly made up his mind. “But tonight’s aerobic exercise is a Stilinski sandwich.”

Derek, who had been chasing desultory kisses down Stiles’ arm stopped suddenly. Scott leant in to rest his forehead against Stiles’.

“Are you sure?”. Scott’s voice was suddenly throaty with desire. “Really sure?”

Stiles looked at them both, a slight smile on his face, then suddenly focused in on Derek. “Stop giving me the monobrow of disapproval. You look like you do when I use a latte instead of milk on my cornflakes.”

“You’re too tired, Stiles. Don’t feel you have to do it for us”.

“I need it”. Stiles was determined, and kissed both of the other two in turn. “I want to feel us, as we are - one big, happy family. If big happy families consist of three guys, two of whom are werewolves. I need us to be us. And Der here is clearly in need…”

Derek was gazing at Stiles with longing, misgivings cast aside. He huffed a small breath that could have been assent, or disagreement, or desire, or all three wrapped together. Stiles smiled at him – a slightly wicked smile that had Derek reaching to bury his head into the crook of Stiles’ neck, almost knocking Scott to the side in the process.

“Come on Derek, you get to be bottom. And if you were pounding at Scott so hard he had to build a pillow fort to protect himself, you had better hope he is in a forgiving mood.”

Derek bit down onto Stiles’ shoulder, whining slightly at the back of his throat as he did, before turning onto his side, his back to Stiles. Stiles and Scott both reached across, tracing the triskelion tattoo with their fingers. Stiles shifted a little under Scott’s weight.

“Can you?” He nodded in the direction of the bedside table. Scott leaned back to reach for the bottle of lube, flipped the lid and began liberally coating two fingers. He worked his way into Derek, as Stiles slowly stroked Derek’s side. 

After a couple of minutes Scott crawled inelegantly over Derek, and began planting kisses along the contours of his abs. Stiles had unimpeded access to Derek’s back. He pushed himself forwards, feeling his cock slide a little on the lube, before becoming enveloped between Derek’s ass cheeks. He wrapped his arms around Derek’s chest, pulling himself closer. Stiles’s body seemed to mould itself effortlessly to the contours of Derek’s muscled form. The recently acquired fleshy overhang of his stomach naturally fit onto the hard, jutting curves of Derek’s ass, at once resting on top and pushing insistently into the small of Derek’s back. Stiles could feel his body connect to Derek all the way along the length of his torso, and he began to rub slightly against him while locking his chin over the broad hardness of Derek’s shoulder. Looking down over Derek’s smooth pecs he could see the dark top of Scott’s head as he worked his mouth industriously down towards Derek’s cock.

Derek gave a choked gasp, tensing beneath Stiles’s body. Stiles assumed it was anticipation of what Scott was about to do; Scott gave the best head of all of them, it was something about the way he rolled his tongue. Stiles always said Scott’s ability to roll his tongue was the only discernible trait of being the true alpha. But then Derek gasped again, a raw sound that seemed almost painful. Stiles noticed Derek’s eyes were glistening suspiciously.

“Derek, what is it?”. Stiles was concerned. “Did one of us hurt you?” He struggled to keep the incredulity out of his voice. He hadn’t entered Derek yet - the tip of his cock was leaking pre come copiously at the top of the cleft between Derek’s buttocks - and Scott’s blowjobs were perfect, warm, wet clouds of fluffy bliss.

Scott looked up suddenly at Stiles’s words, pulling his mouth away from Derek’s inner thigh and leaving a red, glistening mark behind – the colour slowly starting to fade even as he gazed up with his most puppy eyed expression. “Derek, what’s the matter?”

Derek drew in a shaky breath. “I’m just being silly… it’s just.” There was a pause for another rattling breath in “It’s just… I love you two so much...I'm so happy… but I hate it when the three of us can’t be together… and feeling you up against me,” directed to Stiles “and feeling your mouth on me” looking down to Scott, “it just reminds me of how empty I feel when we are not together…”

Stiles nuzzled at Derek’s neck, rubbing himself a little more insistently against him. He could feel his own soft body squishing as it splayed against Derek’s, trying to prevent any suggestion of space between them. “Derek, don’t be sad. You know we love you, just as much.”

Scott began to crawl up Derek’s body to lie with his eyes on a level with Derek’s. “You know that you, Stiles and the cubs are what I love most in the world.”

Derek breathed in again, almost a sniff of emotion. “I know. And I’m sorry that I’m being so needy. It is just, I find it difficult to… but I don’t want to smother you, I don’t want you to think…”

“Derek” Scott’s voice took on the special tone it always did when confronted by anything in pain – animal, human, or werewolf. “You know we all need each other just as much. You are just better at expressing emotions than Stiles, or me.”

Derek sniffed a little, and it was definitely a sniff and not a breath, as he began calming down.

Scott looked at Stiles’s face from where it rested over Derek’s shoulder, and got a small eye roll of assent – all their communication needed most of the time.

“We weren’t going to tell you, because we don’t want to make you feel bad when you go see your family, but the last time you went to New York to see Cora…” Scott was stroking Derek’s stubbled cheek now “We both missed you so much… Stiles was so needy he insisted we did role play.”

Derek half turned to try to kiss Stiles, in spite of the obvious physical impossibility. “You did?”

“He did.” Scott kept stroking. “He had me put on one of your leather jackets, and push him up against the bedroom wall and be all aggressive towards him, before taking him right there.”

Stiles moaned, flushing a little red – though whether with embarrassment or lust at the recollection was not clear.

Derek pulled Scott towards him for an impassioned kiss.

“He made me wear just the leather jacket, nothing else.” Scott said as he pulled away. “And I had to growl at him, and use your gel in my hair and everything…”

Derek reached behind to stroke Stiles’s flank, and Stiles gently thrust forward a couple of times in response.

“Yeah, well, who slept in Derek’s favourite Henley the whole weekend he was away, just to have the scent of him around?”

Scott huffed little, the tips of his ears flushing red as he bent his head back to Derek’s groin. “We need you as much as you need us” he said, his voice somewhat constrained as his mouth moved slowly down the centre of Derek’s abs, his ultimate destination obvious.


	3. Sexy times

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Scott”. Stiles’s breathing was laboured, and there was a hint of clenched teeth on the final “t”. Scott paused briefly in his attempts to map the contours of Stiles’s upper ass cheek with his tongue. “If you don’t get a move on and start pumping my cute if somewhat fat ass full of your come, I’m going to explode into Derek, which will ruin everything. And if you ruin everything…”

“A Stilinski sandwich is going to prove just how much we need you.” Stiles pulled away from Derek by an inch or so, earning a whine in response as his soft midriff broke contact with Derek’s back. “And I think we need to prove this as soon as possible”. Stiles adjusted himself slightly and then eased his cock insistently, but not roughly, into Derek’s entrance. Scott lifted his head from where he had been mouthing at Derek’s cock, and watched as Stiles pushed himself in. The action caused Scott to start breathing heavily, and with a parting suck or two, concluding with an obscene and entirely theatrical slurping sound, he lifted his head from Derek’s cock and began to kiss his way across Derek’s thigh, and buttock, and then across Stiles’s flank, as Stiles began to make small thrusting movements into Derek. Derek’s ass muscles contracted visibly as Stiles slowly built his momentum.

Stiles could feel Scott’s hot breath ghosting over his body, and then two lubed fingers gently probing his entrance and starting to work him open. Stiles’s thrusts into Derek were slow, deliberate, but deep – pushing for the spot that would have Derek melting with desire. Scott was taking his time – his tongue flickering over Stiles’s body, and lingering to work its way along the crease that marked the fold of flesh that formed Stiles’s lovehandle. Stiles felt the sharp pull of Scott’s teeth as he caught some of the roll of fat in his mouth, sucking and biting at the ridge with devastating, sinful, pleasure inducing urgency. Slowly Scott shuffled his way down Stiles’s body. Derek was now starting to moan with each thrust Stiles put into him, and Stiles could feel the reflexive tensing of Derek’s ass as he sought to pull Stiles in deeper and deeper. As Scott moved his mouth lower down, a third finger joining the first two, Stiles was able to shift his free hand to start stroking at Derek’s body, feeling his powerful muscles taut against the flesh. He slowly edged his long fingers towards Derek’s twitching cock, ready to provide the werewolf with the relief he was now panting audibly for.

“Scott”. Stiles’s breathing was laboured, and there was a hint of clenched teeth on the final “t”. Scott paused briefly in his attempts to map the contours of Stiles’s upper ass cheek with his tongue. “If you don’t get a move on and start pumping my cute if somewhat fat ass full of your come, I’m going to explode into Derek, which will ruin everything. And if you ruin everything…”

”You’ll what?”. Scott’s voice was muffled derision, as he spoke without lifting his mouth, confident Stiles had no credible threat.

“I’ll not wear Lycra tomorrow. I’ll wear the baggiest sweatpants I can find. And Derek and I will wear the baggiest sweatpants we possess for a whole week, all the time, including in bed. You won’t even know we have asses.”

“You wouldn’t”. Scott was speaking in scandalised but clear accents. He had lifted his head and was scooting up Stiles body to press his cheek next to Stiles’s, while joining Stiles in his slow caress of Derek’s body. Stiles could feel the cool of the air against his damp skin where Scott’s mouth had been just moments earlier.

“I would. You would not get to see my ass jiggling up and down in taut, black Lycra, wobbling a couple of inches in front of your…”

Stiles broke off abruptly with a hiss of pleasure, as Scott’s hand flew from Derek’s thigh to guide his cock into Stiles. Just the tip. Stiles moaned his assent, and Scott gently edged his way in. Stiles had to resist the urge to push back against Scott; to do so would risk breaking his penetration of Derek, who was now absolutely quivering with anticipation and desire. Stiles waited until Scott has pushed his way fully in, creating a sensation that stopped just the right side of painful, and filled him with expectation.

“You ready, Scotty boy?”

There was a moan of assent, and Scott bit at Stiles’s earlobe. Stiles could feel the faintest hint of a lengthened canine, and smiled. This was Scott losing control. The simplest of things – no more than a scratching of a slightly elongated tooth – signalled that tonight would be short but intense.

“Der?”

“I love you both so much”.

Derek had clearly not fully calmed from his emotional state. Stiles stroked Derek’s abs, carefully sliding his hand slightly lower, as Scott began to push into him. Stiles had to struggle to prevent himself from giving in to the hedonistic bliss of Scott’s prowess as a lover. If he did not concentrate he would become selfish, and tonight was about all three of them. After the first two thrusts (the first because it was Scott starting, the second because Stiles was not entirely altruistic, and was going to revel in some selfish pleasure), Stiles began to move in synch with Scott, pushing into Derek as Scott pushed into him.

“Oh, God, I love you both…”

Derek was unusually vocal. Normally animal like grunts were the most noise he made. He had caught Stiles’s hand in his and was guiding him down, claws slightly out, demanding relief with his actions if not his somewhat incoherent voice

Stiles caught Derek’s cock in his hand and slowly began to move up its length. He had barely completed one motion when he felt Scott’s arm snake around the two of them, to stroke and Derek’s balls. Scott sped up the momentum a little, Stiles keeping up with the shift in rhythm. Each thrust pushed the soft side of Stiles’s waist into Scott’s arm as it lay across him. The sensation was no more than a gentle brushing – one or two of the hairs on Scott’s arm tickling Stiles just slightly, but the result was surprisingly erotic.

Scott became a little faster, a little rougher with his thrusts and Stiles naturally mimicked the pattern as he pushed into Derek. He was certain he was hitting Derek’s prostate every time now. Derek was tensing more and more with each thrust, his breathing ragged with desire and a sense of urgency. There was a sudden, choked off howling sound, and Stiles reflexively tightened his hold on Derek’s length. Scott, equally automatically, slowed his thrusting causing Stiles to slow too. Derek throbbed beneath Stiles's touch, and Stiles felt the warm wetness of Derek’s come as it dribbled over his hand. He leant on Derek’s shoulder, kissing at his neck as he and Scott gently teased out the last pulses of Derek’s orgasm.

“For the third time tonight, that was impressive, big guy”.

Derek said nothing, panting quietly, the light sheen of sweat that lay across him glistening in the light of the bedside lamp. Scott was still thrusting in, but now very gently. Stiles was barely moving at all.

They lay for few moments, before Scott lifted his head from Stiles’s neck.

“Derek, I want to brace myself against Stiles, but I don’t want to lose contact with you. Can you reach back to me? I want to feel you on me when I come.”

Derek reached back over Stiles, caressing his leg as he moved his hand towards Scott. He paused to pinch at the side of Stiles's ass, earning a yelp of protest, before Stiles felt the warmth of his arm over his him, and then Scott’s firm grasp a little way above that, fingers digging in slightly as he gained purchase on Stiles’s sweaty, but soft and yielding side. Stiles could feel the tips of Scott's fingers burying themselves into his flesh as the werewolf tightened his grip.

Derek pushed back against Stiles, who gasped as Derek’s muscular ass contracted with a surprising vehemence for someone who had appeared so spent just moments before. 

“Are you OK without lube?”. 

Derek’s voice was still throaty. The question left Stiles momentarily nonplussed. He was fully lubed up, front and back. Then he realised that Derek must have been talking to Scott, and that he was not merely holding Scott but was working his fingers into him.

“A world of yes…” 

Scott was sounding blissed out. He gave a sudden spasm, pushing himself even deeper into Stiles. His hand shook where he clasped Stiles's side, and Siles could feel his stomach jiggle slightly at the motion. Scott was breathing in sudden, sharp gasps.

“You… your hand… you’ve wolfed…”

“Longer fingers”. Derek was sounding smug.

Scott seemed to lose his grasp on the tattered shreds of his self-control. Stiles could feel slight pinpricks from claws on his side where Scott was grasping him, and was then rocked forwards as Scott pushed deep into him. He hit at Stiles’s prostate first time – Scott seemed to have an innate sense of where to position himself – and Stiles lost himself in an ecstatic sea of pleasure. 

“God, Scotty, please, Scotty, I…”

Derek seemed to be timing when he made his muscle contractions in some coordination with his thrusts into Scott, because Scott’s thrusts into Stiles seemed to match them perfectly. Stiles could feel his mind whirling in confusion, with hormone induced bliss coming at him from two sides at once. 

"Scotty... Der... I... please"

All sense of control surrendered to an unalloyed joy in sharing his body with the two people he loved most passionately in the world. With a cry he hurried to stifle by biting down on Derek’s shoulder, he came explosively, pumping into Derek.

 

Derek immediately slowed his ass movements as he felt Stiles tip over the edge and spill into him. But Scott had not slowed at all, which was extremely unusual. Stiles was about to protest feebly, as Scott’s pounding motions were still pushing Stiles, and thus rocking Stiles’s oversensitive cock into Derek. After two violent thrusts from Scott, however, Stiles could feel the warm wetness of Scott coming deep within him, and felt the weight of Scott resting against him as he shuddered through his orgasm – just as Stiles concluded his last, juddering spasms of ecstasy. The smooth solidity of Scott's chest was pressed tight to Stiles's back. Derek's stubble grazed at Stiles's cheek as he nuzzled against him.

The three of them lay, entwined together. Scott was still clutching at Stiles’s side, though with no hint of claws any more. Derek’s arm lay across Stiles, though the motion of it indicated he was now stroking Scott, no longer in him. Stiles lay between them, pressed by the warmth of the two werewolves’ bodies.

“That was intense.”

Scott was sounding almost shaky.

“I mean, that was more intense than… than… well than anything we have done in a long time.”

Derek murmured incoherently. Stiles could feel, rather than hear the sentiment, as a rumbling sound vibrating through Derek’s back to his chest.

“I love you both, you know that?”

Stiles was surprised how emotional his voice sounded. He was not normally the emotional one – at least not that sort of emotion. Excitement, urgency, and on rare occasions anger. But sentiment was Derek and Scott’s area. But tonight reinforced how important these two were to him.

Derek’s hand was resting on Stiles’s side, but was now intertwined with Scott’s. The werewolves were making low, whimpering sounds in their throats. The endorphin high slowly faded, and Stiles was reluctant to move. But he was not a teenager any more. He was an adult with a family and responsibilities. He nudged the other two.

“While I may love you, even I can tell you both are sweaty, and horrible and smell. And the cubs can’t find us like this tomorrow, or rather today. Shower. Now.”

The whimpers faded to whines of complaint, but Stiles pushed himself up and slapped at the other two in one fluid movement.

“Come on. Showers can be fun too. There is no need to look like a pair of dogs about to get a bath.”

The whines became growls, and two pairs of werewolf eyes flashed up at Stiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is pretty much pure fluff. As far as the porn goes, this was it (sorry if it was not what you were hoping for).


	4. Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suddenly there was a loud thump from the floor above. Scott tensed. Derek appeared suddenly at the bathroom door, white fluffy towel around his waist and wet hair still plastered to his face. A moment of silence and then a piteous wailing could be heard from upstairs.
> 
> “Dylan”. Scott and Derek had spoken in a somewhat resigned unison.
> 
> Stiles held up his hand and began counting down with his fingers “And in five, four, three, two, one.”

Stiles stepped out the shower first, and began drying himself laconically. He smiled at the sudden cloud of steam that indicated Scott had turned the temperature higher – the werewolves always revelled in the warmth. The two large imprints from his ass cheeks, where Derek had pushed him against the glass side to the shower, were rapidly fogging over. There was a sudden thud and Scott’s ass was against the glass, next to the fading signs of where Stiles had been. Stiles could sort of see why Scott was so enamoured of this particular piece of the male body; there was something weirdly erotic about the way Scott’s bubble butt squished against the glass, siding now so that he obliterated Stiles’s own marks. Derek would be kissing with his typical angry passion – devouring Scott as he had just devoured Stiles. Scott and Stiles contented themselves with a more casual intimacy between the two of them; occasional touches, or resting a head against the other, secure in the love of years of friendship that had been intimate long before they were lovers. Derek still needed the aggressive physicality that had marked their early relationships.

“Don’t rush; I’ll change the sheets.”

“Stiles, you don’t need to do that” Scott called out from the shower. “Leave it.”

“Yeah, right.” Stiles had a tone of amused disbelief. “Derek will toss and turn all night knowing the sheets are dirty, you’ll sneakily spread out on your side with each hour that passes, and I’ll end up right on the damp patch until I can kick you both out of bed tomorrow. It’s fine, it’ll only take a couple of minutes.”

Stiles emerged into the bedroom, and pulled out a pair of cotton pyjama bottoms from his chest of drawers. Derek insisted on cotton, linen or (occasionally) silk – and proper pyjama bottoms, that he had selected so carefully they were almost tailored. Slipping them on, Stiles set to work on the bed, changing the sheets with a practiced efficiency, and tossing the used bedding into the laundry basket – checking carefully that everything was in properly, and the lid neatly closed. It riled Derek if things were not in their proper place. He turned back, and paused as he caught a glance of himself in the mirror.

The reflection was not as bad as he had seen when he had arrived home that evening. The night’s exertions and the shower had given his skin a flush. The bags under his eyes had gone, and there was an animated look to his face. The gut was there, no question, swelling gently out over the waistband of his pyjama trousers, but there were compensations. Stiles noted his broader arms, the more pronounced swell of his pecs, the sturdier set of his frame. Suddenly he felt Scott’s arms encircling his waist as he was hugged from behind.

“I like the way you look”. Scott’s breath tickled Stiles’s ear as he rested his chin on Stiles’s shoulder

“Yeah right.”

“No, it’s good. I mean, it’s really good. Really, really good.”

“You like me fat?”

“Stiles, you’re not fat. You’re…” Scott paused, searching for the right word “you’re beefy.” His encircling arms pulled Stiles more firmly against him, one hand stroking its way down Stiles’s chest to the swell of his stomach. Scott’s naked hips pushing just slightly against Stiles’s cotton clad ass as his fingers slowly meandered their way down Stiles’s dark treasure trail, jiggling into the spare flesh of Stiles’s stomach as if to emphasise his appreciation. 

“In fact”, Scott was just whispering into Stiles’s ear with an illusion of personal intimacy, but they both knew Derek could hear them. ‘No secrets except birthday presents‘ was the golden rule of their relationship. “In fact, tomorrow, if you catch me when we are running in the woods, you can take me right there, up against any tree you want, forcing your beefy body onto me and turning me into a whimpering omega… I’ll run shirtless, just to make it easier for you to strip me down. And you can push my back against a tree as I wrap my legs around your broad waist, and let you thrust into me, while you bite down on my shoulder and mark me. Your chunky pecs pressed against mine, my heels digging into your soft ass as I pull you into me, your stomach swelling out to press towards my abs as you possess me utterly.”

Stiles reached behind him to caress Scott’s thigh. “Steady on Scott, I don’t want to get all hot and sweaty right after showering.”

Scott shifted his chin to Stiles’s other shoulder, breathing into his left ear. “And then tomorrow night I’ll take the cubs out and do a camp fire with them, so Derek can have his wicked way with you at home without them hearing.”

Stiles stopped his caressing. The whole idea was tempting, except for the concept of the twins in close proximity to a camp fire under Scott’s supervision. Although Crystal could probably manage them.

Suddenly there was a loud thump from the floor above. Scott tensed. Derek appeared suddenly at the bathroom door, white fluffy towel around his waist and wet hair still plastered to his face. A moment of silence and then a piteous wailing could be heard from upstairs.

“Dylan”. Scott and Derek had spoken in a somewhat resigned unison.

Stiles held up his hand and began counting down with his fingers “And in five, four, three, two, one.”

Immediately he finished speaking a second voice began crying in sympathy with the first. Tyler had clearly joined in. 

There was a lighter thud from above, and a scampering of bare feet on the wooden floors, followed by a muffled voice.

“I’ll go.” Stiles glanced at the clock. It was almost two. “Get to bed. Though there may be more than three of us tonight…”. He disengaged himself gently from Scott’s arms.

“It looks really, really, really good” Scott called after him. Stiles knew Scott’s eyes would be fixated on his ass.

 

Stiles quietly climbed the stairs, though the wailing of Dylan and Tyler would drown out any ordinary noise. He could hear Crystal murmuring to her brothers.

“Shhh. You’ll wake the daddies, and you know how tired they were…”

Stiles pushed the door open to see Dylan sat on the floor, sobbing loudly. Crystal was holding a hand to his forehead. Tyler was still on the bed, his mouth a round “o” of misery and distress as he rested one hand on Dylan’s shoulder.

“Dad” There was a moment’s pleasure in Crystal’s voice, which quickly gave way to a slight quavering distress. “Dylan fell out of bed and he bumped his head and I tried to take the pain away but I can’t do it and he won’t stop crying and Tyler got scared and so he started crying and I didn’t want to wake you because daddy and dada have been very tired and I really, really tried to take the pain away but…” She heaved in a gasp of breath, with a slight wobble of her lower lip, and looked for a moment as if she were going to join the pair of them and create a trio of sobbing children.

“Hey”, Stiles came over and sat next to Dylan on the floor. “You know that taking pain from another werewolf is really hard, don’t you? Even daddy has trouble doing it and daddy is the true alpha. Or so he says.” Crystal looked uncertain.

“And I can see that you have taken some of Dylan’s pain away, isn’t that right Dyl?”

Dylan’s cries had subsided to a low whimpering. Stiles could hear he was more scared than hurt, though there was a dark bruise forming on his forehead where Crystal had been holding her hand. Dylan hiccupped and nodded cautiously. Above him on the bed Tyler seemed to have calmed down as well.

“In fact” Stiles leaned across to stroke Crystal’s hair “I bet you have taken away so much of the pain that all it would take would be a magic kiss from dad to take the rest away entirely. Isn’t that right Dylan?” Dylan nodded cautiously once more, hiccupping again for good measure. ”But you remember that you have to believe in the magic if it is going to work.” Dylan nodded again. “You believe in dad’s magic?”. There was a further nod. Stiles leant in to gently kiss his forehead, and Dylan was suddenly stilled into quiet, reaching to put his hands around Stiles’s neck.

“And Tyler, you were just worried about Dylan, weren’t you?” A nod from Tyler. “Well T, you know that a magic kiss takes all your worries away.” With Dylan still clinging to him, Stiles leant up to kiss Tyler, and then leant across to kiss Crystal on top of her head.

“I think there has been enough excitement for one night. Crystal, why don’t you help Tyler downstairs, and I’ll take Dylan, and maybe, just this once, you can all come and sleep with daddy and dada and me.”

Dylan, drowsy now that the shock was passing, snuffled his agreement into Stiles’s neck. Crystal took Tyler’s hand, and they made their way downstairs to the master bedroom.

 

Derek and Scott were pretending to be asleep – clearly they had heard the conversation upstairs. Stiles put Dylan down on the bed gently, and he immediately crawled over to snuggle against Scott, who pretended to wake. 

“What are you doing here?” Scott asked in mock surprise, as Dylan lifted Tyler onto the bed, and followed him into the gap between Derek and Scott.

“I bumped my head” Dylan was displaying the bruise for general approbation from his parents. 

“That looks like it hurts”. Derek was ‘awake’ now.

“Crystal took the pain away. And dad gave me a magic kiss.”

“Crystal, did you really take the pain away? That is very, very clever of you. Perhaps daddy isn’t the true alpha after all, perhaps it’s you who is the true alpha”. Derek glanced smugly across at Scott, who was snuggling down with Dylan with assumed indifference.

“Enough talking” said Stiles in a pretend stern voice. “I think everyone needs their sleep. Tyler, Dylan you can stay here tonight ONLY if you promise to be quiet” He let out a gentle “oof” of breath as Tyler crawled over his stomach to lie across him.

Crystal was standing to one side of the bed, looking uncertain. “I’m a big girl, I don’t fall out of bed and cry, so I should go back to my big girl bed…” She was looking longingly at the rest of the family, torn between her pride and not wanting to be left out.

“Well, of course you can, Crystal” said Derek. “But, I would really like it if you stayed here, just for tonight, and I know dad and daddy will want you to stay. Just in case. Daddy has to get up early for work tomorrow, and dad is very tired from working late tonight, and they both need to sleep. And if one of the twins falls out of bed and you were in your grown up bed, I would have to go all the way upstairs to get you to come and help me. You know I can’t manage to look after the twins on my own. So if you wouldn’t mind snuggling with me for tonight, it would be a very big help.”

Crystal’s face broke into a relieved grin, and she clambered in beside Derek, who pulled her tightly into him.

 

Stiles leant back as Scott pushed his shoulder against him, and Derek’s free hand brushed against his face. The children’s breathing subsided into a soft, regular pattern, as the family slowly drifted to sleep together.

On the brink of losing consciousness, Stiles caught Tyler muttering

“I love you dad. You are all squishy…”

The snorts of supressed laughter rang out in stereo from both sides of the bed.

“It’s why we all love him”, Derek murmured. 

“I mean really, really, really good” came the barely coherent comment from the werewolf on Stiles’s other side.


End file.
